Dizzy
by sisterstyx
Summary: S/J. Sarah makes a surprise return to the Underground. A mixture of emotions, magic, and memory loss leave all those involved spinning through the twists and turns of the Labyrinth.  See fic of the same name in chapters at adultfanfiction DOT net
1. Chapter 1

"Come on, baby, come on. You can do it-" She spoke gently and encouragingly, trying to coax the beast to her will. "Please, come on. Don't stop, come on, come on, come on-" She bounced up and down, her pleas turning into commands.

Finally the ignition caught and the engine turned over, the hunking piece of metal her father called a "truck" rumbling like an old man woken from a deep slumber. "Yes!" She gave the steering wheel a slight slap out of excitement and then put the large blue pick-up into gear. It lurched forward and, as she trundled along, she could only barely make out the squeak of her windshield wipers over the groans of the axels and the beating of the rain on her hood and flatbed.

Relief washed over her as she pulled out of the deserted clearing. She'd been on her way back to campus from her parents' house when her car had broken down on the deserted country road. Not one to be helpless, she'd dutifully pulled out the toolbox nestled at the rear of the flatbed and gone to work on the oil line, the culprit causing her unscheduled delay. It hadn't taken her very long to fix, but the sun had already been setting in the late autumn sky and the storm clouds overhead ensured that any remaining light was obscured so that, by the time she'd managed to put her tools away and climb into the driver's seat, the wind was whipping furiously at the trees on either side of the road and her headlight provided the only light in the bleak darkness.

She stuck her hands out, one at a time, before the ancient vents to try and breath some warmth back into them, and chastised herself for not having worn gloves. Her mind briefly flashed to hands, larger than hers, clad in soft, supple leather before she pushed the thoughts down and concentrated on the road. The road was along the foothills of a mountain range and she knew of no towns nearby that she could call for help if she needed it. She knew if she veered off the road, she was likely enough to fall off a hidden ridge and any available help would do no good. She doubted anyone would even be able to find her car, massive as the old Chevy was, if she had the misfortune of falling down a ravine amongst the trees.

The sobering thought brought her hands to an even tighter grip on the wheel. The wind had really picked up and, along with the rain, it blew the red and golden leaves from the trees to stick at her windshield and brought small twigs, pinecones, and acorns along with it to thud and scratch along he body of her truck. Just as she began to wonder at the ferocity of the storm, a flash of lightening screamed across the sky, the thunder pounding her chest at such close range. She glanced up at the sky in apprehension and wonder at the strange surge of power. When her eyes flashed back to the road in front of her, she saw a huge, dead tree limb laying across the road.

"Shit!" She pulled the steering wheel hard to the right, slamming her foot on the break, trying to swerve away from the deadly obstruction. But she'd seen it too late. Rather than come to a screeching halt, the truck continued through the mud off the road, narrowly slipping between two massive tree trunks. She had just enough time to draw breath for a scream before her pick-up suddenly nosedived down a sharp and rocky path. Her headlights showed the outline of a pitch-black hole she was headed straight for and it's gaping jaws were the last thing she saw before the darkness consumed her.

When she awoke, the first thing she became aware of was the pounding of her head. She reached up to her hairline and felt a bump rising there near her temple. Her hand came back warm and wet and she opened her eyes to find her fingers covered in her blood. She blinked a few times and realized, almost to her surprise, she had not died in the crash. The truck sat off kilter, the front bumper resting on the ground while the back left tire was caught in a low tree branch. She unfastened her seat-belt and struggled to open the door, the sudden need to be free of the antique contraption and to breath fresh air overcoming her. She misjudged the distance to the ground in her haze, however, and landed painfully on her right leg. As she struggled to stand she began to take stock of her surroundings.

"What the-" Gone was the howling wind and torrential rain. The ground beneath her fingers was firm and dry. The sky was a pale yellow color and hung so low above her head, she thought she might reach up and touch it. The mountains still loomed behind her, but the trees carpeting them looked alien and very unlike the tall oaks and pines she'd been driving through. She felt nauseous, and had to blink blood out of her eye.

She took a few stumbling steps away from the truck and looked over a slight rise to what lay at the foot of the mountains. The scene that spread before her made her heart skip a beat. A magnificent castle and walled city stood at the edge of a great lake that seemed to shine like a pool of liquid gold, reflecting the sky above. She took a staggering breath, feeling a stab in her chest which she grabbed at, struggling to remain standing. Her pulse quickened as she scanned the sprawling city around the castle. The towers and spires seemed to compete with the height of the mountains, almost piercing the softly glowing sky above. Her head swam and she struggled to focus on the large creature flying over the city in lazy circles.

She thought, numbly, she would like to meet that dragon, sometime, before passing out on the olive green grass beneath her.

Pinkie was on her way back to the palace when she saw the strange contraption spilling from the tree. Her back was tired from stooping and looking for the special mushrooms His Majesty so loved and all she wanted was to get back to the kitchens and put her feet up on a stool while the dinner soup stewed. But she was a hob and hobs are curious creatures by nature, so when she saw the foreign shape, she couldn't help but be drawn towards it.

She took tentative steps as she neared the bulky but so far lifeless form and stretched out a nervous hand to touch the chipping blue paint. She drew it back quickly to herself as though the cold metal had burned her. "Iron" she said to herself. "His Majesty would not be very happy to find so much iron in one spot. Pinkie will go tell him and hes can send it far away." She decided aloud. She circled the grand pile of junk, her eyes focused on it incase it decided to spring to life and fly away. She was just about to turn around and tell her king what she'd found when her foot brushed against something squishy and warm.

"By the gods!" Before her lay the bleeding form of a woman who seemed to have been spit out of the iron death-trap and was only barely clinging to life. The lass made no sound when Pinkie reached out her hand again and brushed the hair from her face. "Don't worry, deary, Pinkie's be here now."

The hob put down her basket full of delicious mushrooms and put her hand on the chest of the broken woman, a new sense of dread coming to her as she felt how shallow her breaths were. She closed her eyes and, summoning as much magic as her little form could muster, thought of the palace foyer, and popped out of existence. She needed to get the pretty lady to the fae doctors as quickly as possible and, besides, with her aging back, she'd never be able to carry her to the castle.

When she popped back into the world less than a flutter of a butterfly's wing later, she opened her eyes to the bright blues and reds of the palace entryway and congratulated herself on a successful transport before looking down at the woman she'd brought along. Her chest barely moved as she breathed in and out, and the blood from her head and cuts along her arms was starting to seep into the red carpets. Pinkie quickly scurried off, calling for help. When the guards saw the woman, they rushed to her aid and picked her up, ready to carry her to the closest physician.

Pinkie, quite content with herself, picked up her basket and began counting the mushrooms she'd collected and thought what an excellent little hob she'd been this afternoon, saving the pretty woman, discovering the poisonous iron beast that had harmed her, and finding so many mushrooms for the king's stew. Yes, she thought, it had been a marvelous afternoon, all the other kitchen staff would be eager to hear her tale and the king would be happy with his dinner. She only hoped, as she headed down the servant stairs towards the bustling bowls of the castle, that the lady would be alright.

"Ahem," the gnome cleared his throat, not wanting to disturb the king who so single-mindedly stared into the clear sphere in his hand, his legs draped comfortably over the arm of his throne. "Sire?" he piped up, his voice an octave higher with fear. The Goblin King was known throughout he Underground as a man who's temper was swift and undiscerning. "I have a message for you, your Majesty, from the High King-"

The Goblin King finally sighed and his hand holding the crystal fell to his lap, "Fine, make it quick." He didn't have time for this. All morning, he'd had an ominous feeling and the Labyrinth had been practically buzzing with a strange energy, the source of which he had not yet located. The gnome sent from the High Court was just an annoying fly buzzing around his smaller throne room; he needed to swat at him before he could fully concentrate on the feeling at the pit of his stomach that something was wrong.

"His Majesty, High King Alberon, ruler of the Underground requests your presence at the High Court immediately. It is a matter of great urgency."

He sat up straighter in his throne and finally gave the gnome his full attention. Maybe this had something to do with the extra magic that seemed to be humming in the air today. "Fine," he stood from his chair and towered over the small creature who was relieved to have finally delivered his message. "I'll leave momentarily."

The gnome gratefully popped out of the throne room to deliver the message that the Goblin King was on his way. Meanwhile, said king rubbed his chin in thought as he crossed to the window overlooking his great maze. He would get to the bottom of this sooner or later-he only hoped his summons meant it would be sooner. He looked once more at the crystal in his hand before it floated out of his hand and through the open window as though light as a bubble. He smirked and, with a final glance across the vast walls and hedgerows below, he vanished to meet the summons sent to him.

"Ah, there you are my boy," High King Alberon met him as he walked swiftly through the sumptuous halls of the Grand Palace, his dark maroon cloak billowing out behind him. Alberon put an arm around the Goblin King's shoulders and gave him a broad smile. "I was wondering when you'd stop by-seems I had to go to the trouble of finding an excuse to summon you to court before you managed a visit yourself." He laughed a warm laugh as he pointed the tall blond king into a guest room.

"And what excuse has lured me away from my duties in my own court?" he asked with a sly smile. The worry he'd felt all day was growing, even if the vibrations of the Labyrinth didn't reach the air of the High Court. He wanted to get back and ensure nothing was amiss, but he knew that being summoned to see the High King on a matter of "great urgency" was more pressing. Indeed, the swift footfalls of the older man along the plush carpets of his palace indicated that time was of great importance.

"Well, you'd never believe it, but it seems an Abovegrounder stumbled into my realm completely unannounced." Alberon chuckled.

"A mortal?" The Goblin King asked, the older man nodded. "That is indeed a strange occurrence." They stood in a small sitting room that he recognized as an estate room, usually used for guests from other realms. He knew some of the doors leading off the room were to bedrooms and an en suite.

"Mmm. But even more puzzling was that she was gravely injured in the process. One of the kitchen staff found her while out gathering blue mountain mushrooms-you know how much I love those-" he chuckled again, a warm laugh from his belly, "It seems she was found in one of those awful metal contraptions they use to get around…"

"A car?" he offered the mirthful king.

"Oh yes, a car! See, this is why we called for you-you love Abovegrounders so much-we thought you'd be able to help heal her and see she is returned without too much incident." At that, he opened a door on the opposite wall and ushered the Goblin King in.

He saw a group of maids bustling about the room and hovering over the prostrate form. One was putting a fresh cloth on the patient's face and ringing out the old one into a tub of already bloody water. An Elvin woman sat at the foot of the bed whispering incantations while her hands traveled slowly over the still body. Two Fae women stood on either side of the bed, each holding one of the girl's hands while they stood with their eyes closed. He could feel the magic reverberating around the room as the ensemble each did their part to try and heal the frail mortal in their midst.

"What do you think, my boy? These are our best healers, but you know her race so much better…" As he took a step closer to the sickbed, the maid dressing the head wound moved away and he finally saw the face of the woman laying on sheets stained with blood. His response to the High King caught in his throat and his blood ran ice cold through his veins.

Her face was too pale, her long raven hair matted with her blood, her chest rising and falling steadily but weakly. A myriad of emotions shot through the Goblin King at the sight of the young woman before him and his mind raced as though it was trying to follow all the paths of his Labyrinth at once. He didn't know how or why she was here, what had happened to her, if she would remember-

But he knew one thing. "I-" he cleared his throat, pushing down all signs of feeling in his voice. "I'm sorry, Sire, I cannot heal this woman." He abruptly turned around to leave the room-he needed to think. Alberon frowned and turned to follow after the young king.

"Why ever not?" He asked, somewhat indignant. He new the Goblin King could be vexing, but he'd never seen him be outright cruel.

He stopped, his back as straight as a rod, his fists clenched at his sides. He looked over his shoulder at his King and swallowed the tumultuous emotions circling his body. "Because I have no power over her."

With that, the dark ruler of the Labyrinth summoned a crystal as he walked out of the room and threw it to the floor, disappearing in a flash of light and sounds of breaking glass.

The first thing she was aware of was a fuzzy, distant pain in her head. As she slowly floated up towards consciousness, she realized she was laying in a rather comfortable bed, a warm down comforter pulled up to her chin. The pain in her head became more insistent, as well as one in her arm. She tried to shift position, but the mere tensing of her muscles send waves of pain through her. She could feel bruises all along her body, though they were nothing to the now throbbing pain of her head.

Slowly, carefully, she extricated her hand from the warm confines of her unfamiliar bed and reached up to tentatively touch the heavy bandages that encircled her noggin.

She then came to the realization that someone must have wrapped her injured head and placed her in the cozy bed. She tried to open her eyes to see where she was, and blinked against the candle light in the room. She finally focused on swaths of powder blue fabric above her, which she determined must be the bed's canopy. With effort, she turned her head and looked to her right.

An unfamiliar room filled with unfamiliar things sat quietly awaiting her pleasure. An ornate oak wardrobe stood near an equally stunning writing desk. Navy blue curtains framed floor to ceiling windows along the far wall. Everything was ornate and immaculate. She decided to see what else the room held and, with difficulty, turned her head to the left and saw next to her bed stood a table with a basin of water and fresh bandages. An incredible full-length mirror stood against a wall next to an antique bookshelf. She craned her neck and looked towards the foot of the bed and could see a door leading out of the room. The she saw the figure slouched in the armchair pulled close to the end of the bed.

She tried to ask where she was, but the breath caught in her lungs as her ribcage seemed to explode in pain. Her mouth was dry and she couldn't help but cough-the action sending her whole chest into agony. The nurse in the chair immediately woke and grabbed a glass of water off the bedside table.

"There ye be, deary. Slowly now," she gladly accepted the gentle sips of water before dropping her head back down onto the fluffy pillow. "How be ye feelin? You had quite the tumble, it seems." The nurse smiled kindly at her.

She cleared her throat to try again, mindful of her painful ribs. "My head is pounding." Her voice cracked and the nurse tried to get her to take another sip of water. When the cup was pulled away again, she asked "Where am I?"

"Ye be in the Grand Palace of the High King, his Majesty King Alberon. Ye were found outside the city walls and were brought here fer healin."

"And, who are you?"

The nurse blushed slightly but smiled down at her patient. "I be ye nursemaid, Breeda."

"Thank you, Breeda, for taking care of me." She was struggling to keep her eyes open, her brief conversation seemed to have sapped her strength.

"Oh, t'wern't only my, deary, but ye be welcome. Now, rest-up, ye need ye strength." Breeda gently pulled the duvet tight under the young woman's chin and placed a cool hand on her brow.

"Breeda?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes already closed.

"Yes, me dear?" she gently fluffed her pillows.

"Who am I?" Breeda's hands stopped in their fidgeting and she looked back at the sick woman's face. She was already sound asleep, oblivious to the attentions of the nurse.

She frowned and whispered in answer, "We be hopin you could tell us, deary." She sighed and watched the woman slumber for a moment before quietly shuffling out of the room and closing the door. She needed to tell the King about this new turn of events and she knew he wasn't going to like it. Not one bit.

The Goblin King didn't know what to do. He paced his smaller throne room, where the court goblins often partied and where he liked to look over the Labyrinth when there was a runner in his clutches. He ordered everyone out of the room as soon as he'd returned from the High Court. His mind was racing and he needed to be alone with his thoughts.

How could she be here, in the Underground? She hadn't wished herself away-no, he was the only one with the power in the Underground to grant mortals' wishes. She hadn't been brought back by anyone-permission must be granted by the High Court and the mortal must come willingly. She hadn't come intentionally-he knew of no way she could have crossed over and, besides, she'd been incapacitated. He'd never heard of anyone simply stumbling upon a way through the veil between the Aboveground and Underground, but, the thought brought a bittersweet smile to his face, if anyone would, it would be her.

He plopped down in his throne and held his head in his hands. He hadn't seen her for seven years, yet he'd recognized her almost instantly. He'd only seen her for the briefest of moments, under bandages, her face gaunt and her body discolored, but he was sure it was her. The image of her laying in the bed was burned into his mind and he compared it to images of her he'd kept with him all those years. She'd definitely grown into her beauty. Where before her face only hinted at its potential, her features had sharpened into statuesque perfection. He longed to see her again, just to remark on the differences firsthand. But it was her nonetheless.

"Sarah…"

He hadn't said her name for years. After she bested his Labyrinth and denied all he offered her, his already selfish heart turned ice cold. He would have done anything, everything, for her and she'd walked away. He had come to accept that she had been too young to fully grasp what he had offered her, and it had lessened the sting some, but he could never forgive her.

He'd been willing to share all he'd had, all she could ever dream of wanting. When he was left alone and beaten, he could have collapsed-any lesser man would have. He might have spent his days pining away over her, watching her through his crystals, scheming of ways to bring her to him again. But she'd saved him from that. Of all that she had done to him, this one gift he had eventually been grateful for-for when she had emerged triumphant and declared that he "had no power over her", she had no idea how literal she was. By the ancient rules of the Labyrinth, if anyone is able to navigate it's twisting, beguiling passages in a single run, then they are entitled to anything they demand of the Labyrinth's keeper, the Goblin King.

She could have had anything, her brother, his crown, her dreams-he'd offered it to her willingly, happily-and she had made her choice. A choice he was bound to obey. He could not exert any power over her, his magic could not touch her, could not find her, could not sense her in anyway. He realized, with a snort, that she could have wished herself away to him a thousand times sine that night and he would not have been able to hear her call.

Not that she would ever call upon him, the pathetic Goblin King who'd fallen in love with a 15 year old mortal who wished her brother away to the Underground.

And he did love her.

He leapt from his seat and sighed, crossing to the window where he purveyed his realm. He idly thought how different the Labyrinth would be to her, from her memory of it. Once he'd composed himself after she'd left, he'd directed all of his energies into something productive-improving the Labyrinth. It had finally been beaten, after all, so he needed to find ways of making it more challenging so that the next stupid mortal who wished a child away would not be so lucky as she had been. First, he'd rebuilt the crumbling walls and cracked pavers. The gardens were replanted and constantly tended. The Bog had been drained and the forest had grown wilder. The city itself was almost completely rebuilt after the boulders the rock-caller had summoned left it in chaos. He'd added all the traps and trials he could imagine to the maze, but he had also taken pride in his work. The whole of his kingdom had lost it's forlorn but frightening atmosphere. Instead of fear, the Goblin King wanted to intimidate his opponents-show them he was not easily trifled with and that he was in firm control of all he ruled. He would not be bested again by any mere mortal.

So, the walls were built higher and of clean white limestone. The city was given order and structure and a wider variety of Underground inhabitants now lived there, he'd finally hired a full-time and competent staff for his castle, and the palace guards' armor shone in even the dullest of daylights. He was truly a king who was proud to display his country to any who would venture into it. And, with all the effort and work, his powers had grown as well. Now, the Goblin Kingdom was second only to the High Court in the entire Underground, and its king made sure everyone knew it.

Of course, along with his lands, the king had changed as well. Oh, he hadn't aged at all-he was Fae and time meant almost nothing like it does to a mortal-but gone was the flashy Goblin King who wanted to mesmerize and distract. In his place stood a king worthy of admiration; his blond hair was more natural, his clothes less frilly (although just as tight), his make-up gone. He'd both matured and youthened by removing the superfluous aspects of his image, but he was still known, on occasion, to be rather ostentatious. He wondered if she would notice the differences in his appearance as he had noted hers. But then he caught himself.

He could not be serious about seeing her. She'd dealt him a blow that was neither easily forgotten nor forgiven; cut him from her life as though he were nothing but her childish nightmares. He refused to allow himself to be caught up in her again, not after all this time, not after he'd worked so hard to forget her. No, he would remain in his castle, where she had no occasion to visit, and let her find her own way home. He knew the High King's attendants would be perfectly capable of speeding her to recovery and then she would be gone, back to her life Aboveground. He had no power over her, he could neither help nor hinder her and he refused to do either anyway.

He would simply push her from his mind and steer clear of the High Court for a few days. Besides, he had enough to worry about, what with the strange humming of magic in the air. He would forget that he'd seen her and continue with his life. That was simple enough. Right?

Upon hearing of the young woman's memory loss, King Alberon sent a small squad of guards to search the wreckage of her car for anything that may give them clues to her identity or how she'd managed to pass through the Veil and enter the underground.

The body of the car itself was dismantled and melted down-iron ore was a dangerous substance for the Fae of the Underground, and Alberon was reluctant to have such a large amount of it in a single place. He hoped that, when his guest had regained her faculties, she wouldn't be too upset with the fact she no longer had transportation. What he knew of cars, however, told him the damage indicated that there was little hope left for her blue machine. He had everything else that came with her to the Underground looked over and packaged carefully before being sent to her room so that she might go through it at her leisure.

In the meantime, his best physicians and healers were tending her wounds and trying to comfort her in whatever way they could. Since she had no magic of her own, there was little their powers could do for her-healing is a process best performed by ones' own body over time, it just took less time for Fae. However, the small bits of magic she was able to absorb had greatly helped. Her rib was no longer broken and her head wound may have been fatal if she hadn't had their help. They'd healed all the smaller scrapes and cuts she'd had and her bruises were already turning from purple to green, indicating a much faster healing rate that mortals achieved on their own. She'd lost a lot of blood, but without another willing human donor, they had to leave it to her frail body to replenish what she'd lost. It had only been two days, but she was able to stand with only minor aid and was already winning over the hearts of all those who attended her with her quick small and sparkling eyes.

Alberon himself had not seen her since she'd awoken, being the High King was a busy job, after all, but he'd had reports of her progress. Even the Queen had remarked what a lovely young creature she was. He'd learned her name was Sarah William-she'd found a small hard piece of material with her image and a name they could only assume was hers in a bag from her car. It hadn't triggered any of her memories, unfortunately, but she seemed to know what the card was and knew that she was not Aboveground.

The King mused as to why she had taken in her predicament with such grace and understanding. He could only imagine what waking up in a strange place, not knowing your own name, felt like, but then to find you weren't even in the world you knew, but were, instead, surrounded by strange creatures and foreign powers. Yet she had simply smiled and tried to understand when they explained what happened. She had expressed her gratitude for their help and hospitality and the King had agreed to let her remain at his court until she could be returned Aboveground.

What puzzled the High King was how she'd entered his realm in the first place. He'd not felt anything strange that morning and there were very specific regulations over the admittance of mortals into the Underground. The evidence pointed to some bizarre accident that brought her into their midst. Unless she was lying. However, Alberon had lived unfathomable numbers of human lifetimes and had known countless mortals; he did not think she was deceiving them in anyway-she was dazed and confused, lost but not frightened. No, the only explanation would be if she had some tie to the Underground—some deep-rooted connection that would allow her to pass through the veil without aid from the other side. Unfortunately, with her memory loss, there was no way of knowing if such a connection existed since no one had yet to step forward and claim her.

Or had they? His mind suddenly brought forth the image of the Goblin King standing at the foot of her sick bed, an array of emotions flickering across his face that, to anyone who knew him less, would have been completely ignored. But Alberon knew him quite well and had seen the raw emotions in the younger fae's eyes. And then there was what he had said "I have no power over her". That had to mean he knew her, didn't it? But of course, if he had yet to point out his relationship to the young woman, or even stay at the High Court until she woke up, then maybe Alberon was reading too much into the Goblin Kings' reaction.

He let out a long sigh and pondered.

If this Sarah was connected to the Goblin Kingdom somehow, then it would stand to reason having her visit that place might explain a few things, if not return her memory completely. There was only so much his healers could do for a mortal and without knowing where to send her, or who could care for her upon her return, she was, essentially, stuck in the Underground. While that didn't really pose any problem—she seemed happy enough so far and it was no bother to house her in the Grand Palace until something more permanent could be found—the old king blanched at the thought of the life she'd forgotten and the people she'd left behind.

He couldn't imagine how terrified her loved ones were at her disappearance; they didn't even have evidence of an accident with which to make assumptions and gain closure. He knew that if one of his children suddenly vanished, he would go to the ends of the Earth, above and below ground, to find them and see them safely returned. Thus, he had few options.

He could allow her to remain, living out the rest of her life Underground in whatever way she was able. She was beautiful, kind, and imaginative so he knew she would have no trouble finding some position to occupy her time or, eventually, a mate with which to start a family. But she would never know herself or what she'd inadvertently abandoned.

He could send her Aboveground and try to help her piece her life back together. However, that seemed highly improbable with so little to go on, and he assumed she would have to find a job or husband and start from scratch, just as she would Underground. Why bother sending her away at all? She seemed happy enough and at least Underground he could keep an eye on her; make sure she continued to be happy.

Or, and he couldn't put his finger on just how this plan had come to him, he could send her to the Goblin Kingdom. He was old and wise enough to know when to follow his instincts and, for some reason, he felt that's where the answers lie. He knew that, over the last few years, the kingdom and its king had been rebuilt, growing in power and influence. He hardly recognized the Labyrinth as it now stood, bright and gleaming and imposing to any who had the misfortune to run its course. Where before it had been derelict and haunted, it was now streamline and commanding. Where before the king had been terrifying and mesmerizing, he was now arresting and charming. The denizens of the Goblin City were not just drunken goblins chasing defenseless chickens, but had grown in number and diversity and flourished at the heart of the twisted walls. Yes, the place had been given new life so that the power of its magic thrummed through the very cobblestones, almost as it did in the Grand Palace, but with a different taste.

For a brief moment, Alberon considered if it was this influx of power that had pulled the young woman into the Underground, but then quickly dismissed it since, if it had, the Goblin King would have felt it. If he had felt it, he would have immediately reported it to the High Court and, since no such report had been made, Alberon quickly swatted the silly notion aside. First things first, he needed to decide on what to do with the poor girl. He let out another long sigh and weighed his options again. Whichever way he looked at it, though, his best option remained the same. He could only hope it turned out to be the best for everyone involved.

Sarah leaned on the windowsill, gazing out across the soaring towers and flapping banners to the bustling city below. She had come to love sitting in her room and watching the foreign, yet, not unfamiliar sights of the Underground's capital city as it went about its day hundreds of feet below her. She'd only been three for three days, but already she felt as though she was becoming familiar with the sounds and smells that wafted up to her perch. She'd not left the palace grounds, of course, as she was still healing, but she itched to go out exploring the cobblestone streets and flagstone buildings. She wondered what treasures she could find in the market—the trinkets, the food, the experiences. But, most of all, she wanted to meet the citizens of the Underground.

When, on the first morning she'd awoken in a strange place with no memory, she had not feared or even been surprised by the strange creature tending her. She'd come to learn that it was a Brownie that served the High King in the High Court of the Underground and had since come to rely on and care for Breeda very much. That same day, an elvin woman with shimmering skin had come to reassess some of her more grievous injuries. Most of those she'd met since she woke up had been something other than human and she didn't seem fazed at all. They'd told her she'd been in a car accident and had somehow ended up in the Underground and she merely nodded her head in contemplation.

While these two ideas seemed disparate—that she could understand what a car crash was and accept that she was in another realm ruled by the Fae—she hadn't really been effected by either revelation. She'd confessed that she wasn't shocked to find herself surrounded by creatures most mortals thought imaginary and her nursemaid and physicians had pursed their lips and said very little on the subject. The next day, when she was able to get out of her sickbed with only a little aid, two maids had shown her the chest into which they'd put all of her belongings, save for her smashed vehicle and ruined clothing, which had been disposed of. She'd found her driver's license and, again, was puzzled that she could remember what a driver's license was and what it was used for, but couldn't even recognize the name on it as her own.

She'd been flustered when the High Queen entered her chambers and introduced herself as Theta, saying she was pleased to have her as a guest in the Grand Palace. Theta had tried to ask her questions about herself or at least what she remembered from the accident and, unhappily, Sarah had been unable to give any satisfactory answers. Theta gently explained that they would do everything in their power to return her faculties but that, without knowing anything more about her, they would rather keep her safe in the Underground than return her Aboveground on her own. Sarah understood the situation she was in and thanked the High Queen; she had seemed like a kind and strong woman and had made Sarah promise to seek her out if she was ever feeling lonely or frightened in the unfamiliar palace.

But she felt nothing close to fear or uncertainty. Instead, she felt a sort of calm sureness that everything was going to work out. She worried that maybe her head injury still fogged her mind—shouldn't she be awestruck by what was happening and where she was? Shouldn't she be desperate to return Aboveground and find her family, find herself? She tried to feel anxious about her situation, looked at it rationally and was only curious about how she could have ended up Underground when they'd told her it was impossible. Sarah had decided that maybe she was still in shock—it would explain her unusual comfort in the face of such news without making her worry she'd never be able to regain her memories—she would simply try to be a gracious guest and work with her hosts to regain the parts of her she'd lost in the accident.

She smiled wistfully as she turned her eyes skyward and watched the large black shape of a dragon against the sky making gentle circles above the palace turrets. No, she couldn't be afraid of the Underground, it was far too wonderful to be frightful.

Alberon walked determinedly down the spacious halls of his palace on his way to the guest room where the human girl was staying. He'd spent most of the night trying to think what he would do and, now he had made his decision, he saw no reason why he shouldn't implement his plans immediately. To his left, his beautiful wife Theta, mother of his children and High Queen of the Underground, walked gracefully beside him.

"Darling, what is it you've decided to do with the girl?" She asked with only a hint of trepidation. Alberon knew she'd immediately taken a liking to the girl and felt it was their duty to ensure her safety and eventual happiness.

"You will see in time, my dear." He would wait to make his announcement in front of everyone later that day. In the meantime, the royal couple and their attendants headed to the woman-in-question's chamber.

A few feet from the door, he spotted the nursemaid, Breeda he thought her name was, pop her head out of the door to see what the commotion was about. Upon seeing the approaching king, her eyes grew wide and she quickly popped back into the room. As they walked up to the door, a servant politely knocked on the door before opening it and stepping aside with a bow, allowing Alberon, Theta, and their few followers inside.

The High King quickly scanned the room and saw that the woman, Sarah, was just being helped out of her chair by the window. He gave her a cursory glance and noted that some color had returned to her cheeks and her head only had a few light bandages wrapped around it. She held a white shall around her shoulders and a simple dress of sky blue silk. She smiled and gave a slight curtsey to her hosts and he could see the hints of a blush creep into her cheeks. His physicians had told him there was little else but time left needed to heal her and he decided with his own eyes that, while she was greatly weakened, she seemed grossly improved.

She smiled and gave a slight curtsey to her hosts and he could see the hints of a blush creep into her cheeks. "Your Majesties"

"Good morning, my dear. I see that you are feeling better." He said jovially, spreading his hands in a gesture to her obvious recovery.

"With the aid of your physicians, I'm told I'll make a full recovery. My body simply needs to finish off what they started."

"I'm glad to hear it," Theta crossed to her and placed a warm hand on her arm. "And have you been able to remember any more of your past?" Her voice was soft but still hinted at her curiosity and worry. "We'd hoped looking through what possessions we found might be of help."

Sarah's smile fell only slightly as she replied, "Unfortunately not, your Majesty. I can't remember anything before waking up here."

The king gave her a genuine smile. "Don't worry, my dear, you will in time." She nodded and forced a wider smile. He could see her fingers twisting together with nervousness. "And until then, you are more than welcome to stay here as our guest. It's not often that we have mortals fall from the sky." He chuckled and noticed the young womans' shoulders relaxed and her hands fell to her sides.

"Your Majesty is too kind—"

"Nonsense!" He laughed and took her by the arm. He could almost feel his wife's smile behind him as he began to slowly lead the young woman along with him. "It is our pleasure to help you, Lady Sarah. We want nothing more than to find your home and see you safely returned." They left her room and started to walk to the nearest garden.

"Except maybe to figure out why or how I got here," she pointed out, giving him a half smile. He chuckled again.

"That is true, my dear, you have a point. I cannot say I'm not perplexed by your arrival in my kingdom." They stepped out into the cool bright air of one of the palaces innumerable gardens and began a slow progression through the rose bushes. "But, I do not believe you mean us any harm nor, for that matter, intended to cross the veil in the first place." He was quiet a moment as his thoughts turned, once again, on her strange appearance in his land. She walked silently with him, admiring the flowers blooming around them. He was brought back from his musings when his wife, the queen, cleared her throat gently behind him. He smiled at the young woman on his arm and chuckled slightly. "But no matter. For right now we have other things to worry about."

"Such as, your Majesty?" Her eyes grew slightly wide in worry, but he continued to smile at her and gave her hand a friendly pat in reassurance.

"Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about, my dear. It is just that next week is the Harvest Festival and there is always a grand celebration here at the High Court. There are fetes in the street for four days and, on the night of the full moon, there is a masque at the palace. All of the monarchs from all of the kingdoms in the Underground attend, as well as most of the nobles." He stopped walking and turned to face her, a grin spread wide across his face. "I'd like for you to be my guest of honor at the party; get to know some of the other members of my realm."

She was startled and a flush came to her cheeks. "Oh, your Majesty, that sounds lovely, I'd be honored." She gave him a wide smile in return.

"Good! I thought it would do you good to meet some new faces and, besides, your arrival will, no doubt, be the talk of the night, so why not have you there to address some of the rumors?"

Her face fell slightly though she tried not to show it. She was suddenly terrified of all the rulers of the Underground whispering behind their hands about the silly mortal who had stumbled upon the Underground.

"Don't worry, my dear, I won't leave you to fend for yourself in the middle of the wolf pack. But they will have questions and it would be good for you to be able to answer what you can yourself." He leaned in conspiratorially, "you're far too lovely in person for them to doubt what you tell them."

"Thank you, your Majesty. I'll do my best to live up to your faith in me, although I'm not so sure of myself as you seem to be."

"Ah, the innocence of youth!" He looked over his shoulder to his wife, who had her hands clasped gently before her, a slight grin on her face. "To be young again and so naïve of the world, eh Theta." He turned around and held out his arms to his wife who stepped forward and took both of his hands in her own.

"Darling, you are only as old as you feel in your heart." She stepped forward and placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"Well, I may be over a millennia old, but you make me feel 200 again, my dear." He placed a similar kiss on his wife's cheek.

Sarah giggled softly at their almost cheesy, but heartfelt, affection. She was stunned to learn how old the king was—he didn't look much older than 60—but she knew better than to pry and simply filed the thought away with the other things she would ask Breeda about when she returned to her room. She idly wondered when that might be; just walking to and around the garden had been more exercise than she'd had for the last few days and already she was feeling drained and her head had started to throb slightly where she'd hit it. Theta must have seen that some of the color had left her face because she quickly broke away from her husband's embrace.

"Darling, I think this has been quite enough for Lady Sarah for one day."

"Ah yes, quite right, my dear. My apologies, my Lady, if the ramblings of an old man have tired you out after your serious injuries. How rude of me to forget. Let me take you back to your chambers so you can rest."

"Thank you, your Majesty. And it was no trouble at all," she gave him a heartfelt, if tired smile, "I quite enjoyed our little walk."

He chuckled as he lead her back through the spacious stone halls towards her room. "Very good, very good, my dear. We shall have to do it again!" He approached her door and she took her arm back before giving him a curtsy.

"I'd like that very much, your Majesty." He nodded and she stepped back into her room, closing the door softly. As he turned from her door, he couldn't help but chuckle again.

"Ah yes," he thought, turning the corner to return to his study, "I think this is all going to go quite nicely!"

The Goblin King was not happy. The Harvest Festival had never been an activity he relished. The streets were overcrowded with stalls and vendors selling every clothing, trinket and food stuff imaginable. Acrobats and magicians performed on street corners and the sounds of music, screeching children, and bustling shoppers polluted the air. He tried, to the best of his ability, every year to wait until the last possible moment before showing up for the Masque Ball. Years ago he'd show up in dramatic dress and twirling crystals, drink a little too much pixie wine, dance with all the beautiful woman and, if one pleased him, took her to his bed as soon as decorum would allow. But for a few years now he'd simply smiled at all the monarchs, talked business with a few of the nobles, ate the food, drank too much and returned to the castle beyond the Goblin City alone and cold hearted.

He would much rather not go at all, but Alberon would have none of his protests. Especially now, since his Kingdom had gained so much power, his presence was particularly important. He'd vowed, this year, he would do better, use the opportunity to make a few more deals with the leader of the Minotaurs to the northeast and some of the other surrounding kingdoms. He had planned to benefit from the gathering of so many leaders, rather than feel as though he had to suffer through it.

But that was before _she_ had shown up. Having heard she was Alberon's guest of honor, he had decided to come up with some excuse, some pressing matter that meant he would be unable to attend the ball. He'd tried it in the past, to no avail, but this year he had a true motive for not wanting to go, so he'd figured he could come up with something even the High King could not overrule. To his dismay, the jovial head of the Underground had nipped his plans in the bud. No sooner had he decided he would do anything in his power not to go, Alberon had sent him a letter saying he would take no excuses and demanded he attend.

Needless to say, the Goblin King was frantic. He'd vowed not to see her; sworn to not let her presence in the Underground effect him at all. She hadn't even gotten in contact with him after her recovery-not that he was disappointed or anything. No, no, he told himself, he was relieved that she was maintaining her distance. He could ignore her in just the same way. She'd been the one to deny him in the first place, after all. Why would he expect her to seek him out when she probably hadn't thought twice about him in the last seven years since she'd left the Underground, left him.

No, he was getting along swimmingly until the blasted summons. Now he would be forced to see her, to make small talk. His throat was suddenly dry as a thought came to him—he might even have to dance with her. The very idea made him shiver with fear and longing and he hated himself for it.

He was the Goblin King, damn it! He'd offered his heart to a 15 year old mortal girl and she'd stepped on it and beaten his Labyrinth in the process. He had spent the last seven years rebuilding his kingdom and himself so that no one would ever have that kind of power over him again. He would not waiver within a few short days of her return to the Underground; not let all he'd accomplished mean nothing.

So what if he still loved and despised her. He would not let it daunt him. He resolved he would attend the ball and show Miss Sarah Williams exactly what he'd done with himself without her. He would show her that he had moved on and was now more powerful and terrifying than she could ever have imagined.

Any desires he had of learning how she had changed, what kind of woman she'd grown into, were quickly dismissed and shoved to the back of his mind. He would look into her eyes, give her his infamous smirk, and prove to her, and to himself, that he didn't need her.

Sarah gave her corset a tug in the attempt to find a spare millimeter of breathing room. She stood looking in the floor length mirror in her room, Breeda putting the finishing touches to her elaborate hair style. While she gave a silent prayer that the unfamiliar and terribly restricting corset would not cause her to pass out, she couldn't help but notice the wonders it did for her figure. King Alberon had had the court seamstresses working non-stop for three days on her gown. It was a beautiful thing to behold; blue taffeta embroidered in silver and studded with pearls. The skirt was full but not bulbous, the dropped waist and fitted bodice accentuated her narrow waist, and the square cut neck did little to cover her now-heaving chest. She'd felt a little self-conscious when she'd first put it on, but Breeda had quickly waved her disquiet away.

"It's the fashion, deary. Besides, ye be the guest of honor-ye got to look ye best fer the King!" So Sarah had acquiesced, not wanting to be disrespectful in the face of all the kindness the High King had granted her. Besides, she smiled to herself, maybe this is the kind of thing I normally wear. But she somehow doubted it.

"There ye be, deary. All finished!" Breeda stepped back and Sarah did a little turn for her.

"Well?" She raised nervous eyes to the Brownie.

"Ye be lovely. The King will be pleased."

"I hope so. I'm just so worried-I've never been to a ball before." She paused, a crease wrinkling her forehead. "At least, I don't think so. Oh well," she sighed, yet again idly wondering when or if she would get her memory back. "It's just that I'm to meet all the nobles that the King has invited. What if I say something wrong or forget how to curtsy?"

"Never ye mind, deary. Ye be splendid, everyone will love ye!" The maid gave her a comforting smile and Sarah sighed at her reflection again, before turning to leave.

"Well, best not to put off the inevitable."

"Oh, wait a moment! Ye best not forget this," Breeda grabbed Sarah's mask off the vanity and handed it to her.

"Oh, thank you, I almost forgot." She turned and left her room, hoping she remembered the way to the grand ball room where the party was to be held. She glanced down at the mask in her hands, the clean moonlight glinting off its polished surface as it shone through the windows in the hall.

She eventually found her way to the ball room, no one stood in the hall but she could clearly hear the sounds of a party in the room beyond the great wooden doors before her. She took a steadying breath before placing the mask on her face and carefully tying it behind her head so as not to ruin her hair.

"Ah! There you are my dear!" She turned around as was bombarded by the jovial and colorful High King coming her way in a suit of golds and browns. "You're just in time, I wanted you to be announced with us." She could see the Queen behind him, dressed in a deep burn orange dress with golden tassels and studded with rubies. They each wore a crown and she saw that, rather than fixed to their faces, both of their masks were on long sticks so that they could be held before them as desired.

Sarah bowed appropriately and the King took her hand. "Thank you so much for the dress, it's beautiful." She smiled at him and he beamed.

"You look wonderful," the Queen placed a reassuring hand on her other arm before turning to face the ball room doors.

"Shall we?" Alberon lead the two women into the room as the doors swung open before them. The crier who stood just inside the doors bowed his head before clapping his staff against the stone floor, producing a thundering sound that drew heads and quieted conversations.

"His royal highness, High King Alberon, Ruler of the Underground. Her royal highness, High Queen Theta of the Grand Court. And Lady Sarah of the Aboveground."

Sarah's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the hundreds of citizens of the Underground before her, faces turned towards her in interest, if not open curiosity. As Alberon began making his way down the stairs in front of her to mingle with the crowds, the conversations began picking up again. Sarah tried not to focus on the blatant stairs and hands covering whispering mouths. She felt obligated to return the kind kings' generosity in whatever way she could and, since he said she was to be the guest of honor, that meant she had to smile and make small talk with all the nobles and leaders present at this grand fete. She took a steadying breath, smoothing her hands down the front of her gorgeous dress in a nervous gesture, and followed Alberon down the stairs and into the fray.

As the Crier made the announcement, he took a deep breath in anticipation and turned to face the main doors to the ballroom and saw the royal party standing at the landing, surveying their guests.

"And Lady Sarah of the Aboveground." He was glad he'd taken a preemptive breath because, at the sight of her, he thought he felt all of the oxygen leave the room.

She was sumptuously wrapped in layers of sapphire blue fabric, delicately adorned with flashes of silver brocade and studded with pearls. Her face was partially hidden behind her silver mask, but, even from this distance, his body immediately responded to the sight of her. While his body had already made a clear decision at what it felt at seeing her again, his mind ran through a myriad of emotions and thoughts; joy, disgust, pride, humiliation, and, finally, relief to see her recovered from the state he'd seen her in just a week previously.

He shook himself from these thoughts-he was the Goblin King and she was the defeater of his Labyrinth. She was his enemy, and how he hated her. She had returned-how, he had no idea and why, he no longer cared-and she could do as she pleased. But, as his familiar smirk and haughty posture settled upon him, that didn't mean he had to make it easy on her. He was the Goblin King, and she would do well to remember it!

He slowly began making his way towards her and the High King, watching as she smiled and curtsied to each dignitary she was introduced to by the merry king. Each ruler and noble wanted to meet this strange mortal who, or so they heard, had stumbled upon the Underground quite by accident. But he was oblivious to anything else as he drew nearer and nearer to his target. Her back was to him and a small part of his brain registered her familiar chocolate locks as they cascaded down her back. He denied the itch in his fingers to reach out and touch them and schooled his features into their desired effect: arrogance and power. He took the last few steps and closed the distance between them. He stood behind her and struck an imposing stance as the High King glanced over her shoulder.

"Ah, there you are, my boy! Sarah, this is someone I especially wanted you to meet," she turned to face him, a pretty smile turning the corners of her mouth up. He prepared himself for whatever her reaction might me-he was going to enjoy seeing this. "May I introduce Jareth, the Goblin King." She met his eyes and his heart stopped. "Jareth, this is Lady Sarah."

She curtsied, "I'm pleased you meet you, your majesty." Her eyes lifted to his again and she wore the same smile he'd watched her give everyone else she was introduced to.

He was struck dumb.

He'd been ready for the look of recognition, the angry outburst, the fearful gasp, and haughty indifference-he'd been ready for anything she might have done. Anything but this.

"Jareth?" Alberon looked at the Goblin King, a line of worry creasing his brow. This shook him from his stupor and he bowed deeply to her-so this is how she's going to play it?

"Lady Sarah," although his smirk had faltered for a moment at the complete lack of reaction he'd gotten from her, "I hope the masque is to your liking?" He hadn't missed the similarity of their current situation to the dream he had sent her after biting into a certain drugged peach. He hoped to rile a reaction out of her and briefly entertained the idea of asking her to dance just to see what she would do.

"Indeed, it is quite the loveliest I've ever been to," she replied with such innocent honesty that he felt it like a kick in the gut. He didn't let his haughty smirk falter, however.

"Well, then you must not have been to many balls before," he retorted snidely.

"I couldn't say, your Majesty." She had the gall to look ashamed of the fact. Jareth could feel his blood pressure rising and his brow crease-how dare she continue to so blatantly ignore his hints and play the innocent mortal. He wanted nothing more than to bring out her stubborn temper in front of the High Court and expose herself as the troublemaker she was, but before he could make a witty come-back, Alberon jumped in, sensing the tension.

"Jareth, Lady Sarah is my guest of honor tonight, why not get her a drink and ask her to dance before one of the other eligible young men steal her away. No doubt she'd rather be spinning around the dance floor than keeping an old King entertained." Jareth sighed, yes, getting her alone with him was exactly what he wanted to do. He schooled his features and held out an arm to the beautiful woman who infuriated him constantly.

"My Lady," he said, giving her a pointed look. She, again, seemed to take no notice, but did hesitate slightly before putting her hand on his arm. He hoped the spark of longing that he felt at her touch didn't show on his face. He lead her away from the mingling crowds and noisy dancers, foregoing the glasses of pixie wine sitting on a nearby table, towards a balcony overlooking the capital city of the Underground. He wanted to know what the devil she was doing in his world again and he was determined to get some answers.

Sarah tried to quiet the fluttering of her heart as she was lead from the ballroom by the strange, attractive young King. She had no idea if his temper was always quick to turn on people he'd just met, but somehow she felt the haughty tilt of his head and the sly grin suited him.

When she'd turned to face him at Alberon's request, her breath had caught in her throat for the briefest of moments at the sheer beauty of him. His hair fell in messy waves from his head, his mismatched eyes sparkled from behind his gruesome mask as though he knew a secret, his creamy skin stood out against the deep red of his elaborate coat and his tight grey breeches seemed to be molded to his lean, muscular legs-at least the parts she could see that weren't ensconced in regal knee-high black boots.

She had been prepared for just another Fae noble, the same as the numerous guests she'd already been introduced to, yet he had seemed to be bating her, trying to elicit some reaction. Why, she had no idea. But, she had a sinking feeling that she may find out soon enough as she realized he was leading her to a secluded balcony, away from the other revelers. Another butterfly started to flit about her stomach at the prospect of being alone with the handsome Fae, but she wasn't given enough time to examine her strange reaction.

"So tell me, _Lady_ Sarah, how you came to be in the Underground?" He said, a smirk on his face, hands on his hips as he rounded on her. She did not miss his tone of voice when he said "lady", but tried to overlook it-the last thing she needed was an angry king making her life more difficult.

"I'm not sure, _your Highness_." She responded, attempting to keep her voice even.

"Well you certainly weren't wished away-I would know, otherwise."

"And why is that?" She asked, intrigued. He let out a mirthless laugh.

"Is it not my duty to collect wished away children?" He felt a constriction around his heart-she was doing a wonderful job of playing dumb and wounding him in the process.

"And, do I seem like a wished-away child to you?" She felt almost insulted at the idea and her tongue lashed out before she had a chance to think about it.

He suddenly took a step closer to her and his smirk changed from one of distain to one of hunger rapidly. "Well you certainly don't look like a child to me, Sarah."

She was unfamiliar with the mixed feelings of anger and lust she felt for the man before her as she saw him obviously look her up and down. How he could make both reactions rush to the pit of her stomach at the same time, she had no idea, but her anger seemed to be stoked with every word from his mouth.

"What a keen power of observation you posses, Goblin King. Tell me more of myself, for I am dying to know what else you think of me." She fleetingly wanted to know how on earth their brief conversation had escalated so rapidly-she was quite close to him now, and her voice was raised-but she couldn't quell the racing beat of her heart as she looked at him with defiance.

He, on the other hand, lowered his voice as he drew closer to her. The smell of her was driving him insane-he couldn't concentrate on their angry banter "Yes, you are most definitely a grown woman," he couldn't help himself as he, once again, let his eyes roam over her figure in the sumptuous gown. "A very beautiful woman, at that." The rapid rise and fall of her chest against the constrictive bodice of the dress was particularly distracting. He looked up and saw her biting her lip-ah, so he did have some affect on her, at least.

Sarah's mind was starting to swim as her vision was focused solely on the bizarre King. She could almost feel the magic rolling off of him, see it blurring the edges of his figure in the faint candlelight filtering through the open doors. She tried to maintain her anger, but as he inched closer to her, she felt it ebbing away, slipping between her fingers as her mind started to shut off. What was he doing to her?

"Do you say that to all the women of the court?" She half whispered, trying to regain some semblance of control of the situation by calling him a flirt, but she found herself focusing on his lips, aching to see his face without the mask. She suddenly remembered she had her own on and was thankful to whatever coverage it, and the poor lighting, was giving to her flushed cheeks.

"No, Sarah, you are quite special," his head began to tilt lower to hers.

"Am I? How so?" She wanted to know, but she also felt her head begin to tilt up towards his face. He could feel her breath against his face.

"Dance with me," he whispered, his hand resting slightly on her waist, their bodies a hair's breadth apart.

"I-I don't dance," she sighed, as goose-bumps rose along her arms and a chill of longing raced along her spine.

"You dance with me," his lips brushed the curve of her ear, but she didn't notice.

"I don't dance," she repeated, her voice flat, loosing the breathy tones she'd been reduced to.

He frowned and pulled back enough to look her in the eye. She had a far-away look on her face and her brow wrinkled above the line of her mask. "What?"

"I don't dance." She stated clearly, her eyes meeting with his. "I remembered I don't dance." She said it as though it were some great revelation.

"I don't un-" Jareth began, the spell between them suddenly broken.

Her face split into a huge grin as she interrupted him, "I remembered! Oh thank you!" And suddenly she was kissing him.

It lasted only a moment as she pulled his face down with both hands and met his lips with her own. He hadn't even enough time to realize what was happening and try to take advantage or enjoy the feel of her body when she pulled away from him, a look of utter shock on her face.

"Sarah, what wa-"

"Ahem," Jareth's question was cut short by someone clearing their throat behind him.

"Oh, Sire, the Goblin King has made me remember something, isn't that wonderful?" Jareth tore his eyes away from Sarah's ebullient face and looked at the High King over his shoulder with puzzlement.

"Yes, my dear, I'm delighted to hear it." He flashed an indiscernible look at Jareth before walking up to the duo. Jareth halfheartedly noticed that Sarah had regained an appropriate distance from him and most of his body yearned to close the gap again. His mind, however, felt like it was struggling to catch up to the conversation at hand.

"What do you mean, 'remember'?" He asked, his voice betraying the rising panic he felt in his chest. He glared daggers at the old king who was lacking his typical jolly grin.

"Lady Sarah has suffered memory loss from the injuries she sustained upon arriving in my kingdom." Jareth's heart stopped and his mouth turned dry as his head whipped back around to stare agape at the woman beside him. "She remembers nothing from before her time here." King Alberon's voice held a note of pity that was lost on the mystified Goblin King.

"Sarah?" Jareth turned to the woman he hated and coveted above all others.

"When I woke up, I didn't know who I where I was. I couldn't even tell them how I got here. I found my picture and name on a card I had with me. That's really all I know." She looked down at her clasped hands, saddened and embarrassed by her lack of identity.

Jareth took a step away from her, his face settling into the cruel, hard mask he showed most of the world. He looked at her a moment longer and when she met his eyes, he finally knew what was wrong; they lacked any sign of recognition, of familiarity. He swallowed and, when he spoke, his voice maintained an emotionless monotone level.

"Excuse me, you Highness, I have matters to attend to back at my castle."

"Oh, run along, Jareth. I'm surprised I managed to keep you here this long anyway!" Alberon tried to sound his normal jovial self and chuckled at the younger king. His efforts were lost on Jareth, however, whose mind was racing so fast it was numb.

Jareth gave an awkward bow to the two of them and abruptly disappeared in a cloud of shimmering smoke.

"Did I do something wrong, your Majesty?" Sarah felt like she had unwittingly offended the handsome Goblin King, due to her amnesia. Although she couldn't see how that would have any bearing to his attitude towards her.

"No, no, my dear. Jareth is a fickle young Fae at times. Quite unpredictable. No one can keep him in line for very long, not even myself!" He held out his arm for her. "Come, I have a few more people I'd like you to meet. Prince Nadir is an especially charming young-" but Sarah didn't really listen as she took his arm and was led back into the party. Something itched in her mind, something she felt she should be remembering, but couldn't, no matter how hard she tried. She knew it was something important. She hoped that she would meet the bewitching Jareth again, although she wasn't sure he could jog any more of her memories. But the more she thought about dancing, the more she thought about him. She wanted desperately to see his face without the gruesome mask. Her face flushed as she suddenly realized she had kissed him in her elation and her heart dropped at the idea that said kiss might have been the reason for his hasty departure.

Jareth popped back into existence in the middle of his smaller throne room. He stood perfectly still, his mind and body sluggish as he tried to process the information he'd just received.

_Sarah remembers nothing. She doesn't know me. She doesn't know herself. _

"She's gone." He whispered to the empty room.

Sarah, the girl who'd beaten his labyrinth, the child who'd turned him down and crushed his heart, the one person to have bested him in his long life as King of the Goblins, his greatest enemy, the woman he'd loved, was gone. Everything she'd done, everything she'd been, everything she'd learned and known and experienced was lost. She was just the beautiful shell of a dead woman; a living, breathing, exquisite shell.

What worse punishment could he have asked for? What worse punishment could she have inflicted upon him?

He should be cackling with laughter, singing a rousing victory song with his goblins as he danced around the throne room. He should be happy that his triumph was at hand.

Instead, he let out a blood-curdling shout of fury at the fates, his head thrown back, his hands fisted so tight that, without his leather gloves, he would have drawn blood with his fingernails. The entire castle rumbled with his pain and every citizen of the Labyrinth was awoken from their beds.

_Something was wrong with the Goblin King_, they all knew. _Something has happened._

As the goblins, elves, brownies, gnomes, dwarves and other creatures of the Labyrinth and Goblin City settled back down to bed, their king fell to his knees, his hands falling limply to his sides. Had he not been so absorbed with his thoughts and emotions, he might have been able to tell that the energy humming through his great maze was coalescing into a discernable feeling, an almost-message that the ancient stones were sending him.

_Something __was coming. _

Sarah passed the rest of the ball in a haze. She greeted hundreds of nobles and dignitaries of every shape, size, color, and number of limbs. The High King was all too pleased to introduce her, so she smiled politely and tried to listen to the somewhat bizarre conversations between King and Court. Prince Nadir did turn out to be a charming young man who bowed over her hand with an unassuming half smile that made Sarah smile back involuntarily. His medium length auburn curls framed his face handsomely, giving a pleasing contrast to his strong square jaw. He'd asked her about her health after her accident and she had asked about his home country. He said he came from the Kingdom of the Wood; a vast forest on the other side of the mountain range from the Grand Palace that was home to many sprites and fairies and other woodland creatures. Sarah only half paid attention and tried not to seem as distracted as she was. Alberon came to her aid by asking her to meet the Queen of the Western Ocean and she curtsied slightly before heading off again.

For the most part, those she met mostly smiled indulgently at her, as she was the High King's favorite, then continued with their business. Men and women discussed tariffs and laws and political unions to no end, imploring Alberon of this or that, or asking his advice. The short, portly man answered each with a smile and piece of wisdom. Sarah saw, for the first time, what an important role he must have in the Underground and, she decided just as quickly, he performed it beautifully. He weaved among his people with expertise and grace, giving each his attention, calming fears, sharing joys, answering questions, asking his own. He was like a mother hen keeping his chicks happy and in line.

But this revelation was just about the only thing to pass through Sarah's mind that didn't have to do with her strange encounter with the alluring Goblin King. He had definitely made an impact on her. She had a nagging sensation that she knew him, although she had no idea how that could be possible as she was from Aboveground. And he hadn't said anything to her, hadn't given her any information that would help her in recovering her memory, hadn't offered an explanation of anything he'd said. It was a silly feeling, she decided, she'd created because she'd regained a single, fleeting memory in his presence.

But she thought of his long straw-colored hair, his secretive smirk, the tempting stretch of his long legs, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes and she felt a tug in her belly she couldn't name. It was quite ridiculous, she thought, to be infatuated with a man she'd never met and whose face she'd never seen. As the party began to wind down and guests began to leave, she was pulled from her ruminations.

"What did you think of the ball, my dear?" Alberon patted her hand in his arm as he began to lead her out of the great hall and back to her room.

"It was magnificent, your Majesty," she answered truthfully. _And so was one of your guests_, she added to herself.

"I'm glad you thought so. Did you enjoy meeting the court?"

"Oh yes, it was wonderful. The minotaur was especially amazing."

"Ahh, indeed, Roland does make a striking first impression!" As she laughed with him, he gave her a sly glance and tried to make his next question seem innocent. "Did anyone else catch your special attention?" He spied her out of the corner of his eye and saw the flush rise in her cheeks. "That young fellow, Prince Nadir, is quite a catch. All the women of the court are fond of him, but he pays them little mind. Don't you think he'll make a fine husband?"

"Hmm?" She turned to look at him, her eyes still only half focused on what was before her. "Oh yes, I'm sure." She replied.

"Not at all like Jareth, I'm afraid." He felt her step falter for a pace and smiled at his confirmation.

"Who?" She asked, giving him her full attention for the first time in hours.

"Oh, that impetuous Goblin King." He replied, waving his hand as though it were unimportant. "He's been on the throne for years and still hasn't taken a wife. Which is quite surprising given the terrible flirt he used to be-"

"What do you mean 'used to be'?"

"Well," he began, as though it were obvious, "he's changed in the past few years. His labyrinth was defeated by a-"

"Labyrinth?" She asked, her head whipping around to look at him.

"Yes, a colossal maze filled with traps and-"

"I know what a labyrinth is," she almost whispered to herself. Alberon indulged her interruptions because he wanted to hear her responses; besides, he was not the kind of man to mind in the first place. But Sarah's mind was off in another world; a world filled with white dresses and little red books and plays recited by a stone bridge. But she couldn't make the image solidify in her mind to form a cohesive memory.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the king. "Jareth is both king of the Goblin City as well as ruler of the great Labyrinth. He upholds the laws of the Labyrinth, an ancient magic that has served as a gateway between the Aboveground and Underground for as long as memory can recall. His kingdom is second only to the High Court. He was too proud, I think, and took his defeat to heart. But he rebuilt his kingdom to be even more powerful and impenetrable to the point of almost surpassing my own. He is a very powerful and dangerous man."

Alberon searched her face, but his serious words seemed lost to her. Her eyes had regained their glossy veneer which told him she was lost in thought. _Oh yes, this will be easier than I thought_.

_She was kissing him again. Her lips were pressed firmly against his, her hands on his chest, his hair__ falling into her face, ticking her cheek. But this time, he was kissing her back. His hands pressed against her back until she could feel her entire body touching his. Her hands snaked up to close behind his neck as she sighed, parting her lips slightly against his. He eagerly took the opportunity to teasingly glide his tongue along her bottom lip before delving inside her mouth to fully taste her. She felt his cool fingers, clad in leather, slide against the skin of her neck and cheeks as he angled her head to suit his height. She returned his anxious ministrations with fury. She slid her tongue along his, tasting him, feeling his slightly pointed teeth. She thought she could get lost in him forever. He tasted of sin and magic. She inhaled deeply through her nose and could smell his heady aroma mixed with her own and she couldn't help but groan. He pressed himself even more firmly against her and she could feel his growing passion. She ran her fingers through his long hair, loving the feel of the silky strands between her fingers. He wanted to devour her and bit down slightly on her bottom lip when she tugged slightly at his hair. He could feel her smile against his mouth and his hands began to wander from their place at her jaw. His fingers followed the path of unadulterated skin along her neck and shoulder, down to the beginning swell of her breast, before he encountered resistance. She shivered against him and pulled back from the warring kiss, taking a deep breath. She wanted him so badly, to feel the fire he'd sent through her with his mere touch along the length of her entire body. He looked at her with a hunger that sent chills of need down her spine. But she had to see his face. She just caught the look of mixed terror and hope fly across his features as she began to pull off his goblin mask before the world went black. _


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: here's an update. remember, you can read it in slightly more frequent updates (and shorter chapters) at adultfanfictionDOTnet . ciao!**

It was a few days later, when all the guests had departed the Grand Palace for their respective homelands, that Jareth received a message from the High King. He sat lounging in his smaller throne room, the one his goblins favored for parties and naps en mass, when a tiny Goblin, came bounding into the room and up to him, scroll in hand.

"Kingy! Kingy! Message for Kingy!" Jareth reluctantly slung his foot back on the ground and took the paper from the eager creature before watching his unruly purple tuft of hair blend into the chaos of the rest of the room. Jareth stared down at the deep blue seal and muttered to himself.

"What the devil can he possibly want now?" He tore open the scroll and read the message from the High King. "Blast that old, meddling man!" He leaned back into his throne, casting a hand over his face to block out the world. The goblins nearby who had heard his outburst turned to look, concerned, at their king. They were just about to loose interest when his powerful voice boomed through the room. "Karyn!"

In an instant, a lovely young woman appeared at his side. Her pale red hair in stark contrast to the sever black dress she wore. "It seems my mere attendance at the masque wasn't enough. The old loon has just sent me word of his immanent arrival-no doubt in an attempt to thwart any attempt to escape." He let out a frustrated growl before sighing; he'd long ago resigned himself to obeying the amiable ruler. It just couldn't be helped, no matter how hard he tried or how cleverly he schemed. "Please tell the cook that the High King will be joining us for dinner, and have the usual room prepared." She bowed to him silently and disappeared from the room in the same way she'd entered. Jareth left the throne room as well, however he opted to walk the hall leading to his favorite and most despised room in the castle. As he opened the doors and looked out over the twisting, gravity-defying stairs, he mumbled, "I have a feeling I'm going to get a scolding tonight," and plunged into a deep-thinking pace that had him walking on the walls and rooted on the ceiling.

It was with reluctance, an hour later, that Jareth welcomed the High King and Queen to his court. Their entourage immediately went to work taking their trunks to their usual suite as they entered the main throne room. Jareth had majicked in suitable thrones for his honored guests and stood before the three ornate chairs at the head of the room.

He smiled politely and bowed to his king who beamed at him across the room. "Ah Jareth, what a pleasure it is to visit the Goblin Kingdom once again. I see you've done some work since we were last here." Jareth walked towards the small group of people entering his throne room and met the king half way. It wasn't until he got within a few feet of the party that he noticed one particular brunette step out from behind the High Kings personal attendant. His reply was lost on his lips as his eyes focused on her, and, as he stared at her as she looked around the room, the High King was more than happy to continue his critique of the renovations. All thoughts of compliment or criticism were lost to the Goblin King, however, when Sarah's innocent gaze met his and a flush crept up her neck to her cheeks.

_Oh Hell_.

Sarah had no idea why the High King wanted her to accompany them to the Goblin Kingdom. She had politely declined once, but the king urged her to reconsider and, since he'd shown her so much kindness that she'd yet to repay, she didn't have the heart to refuse in the end. The fact that the ruler of said kingdom filled half her waking thoughts, and even more of her dreams, she decided, did not come into play.

Or, at least, that's what she told herself.

Breeda had rushed around her room, readying her trunk for the journey and short stay. Luckily, the trip wasn't a long one, and Sarah had few possessions to speak of, so it wasn't long before her things were made ready. She asked why they didn't just majick their belongings, let alone themselves, to the Goblin Kingdom to save time and effort. Breeda gave a small sound of agreement but went on to explain.

"It be a matter of tradition te take the trip on foot across boarders. If every fea just popped 'imself inte court, when'er he felt, it'd be near impossible te keep track of 'em all. A King shows 'is respect by given of 'is time and energy te travel by foot, and it give th'other King the chance te prepare for 'im and 'is party."

"So, King Alberon is showing his respect for the Goblin King by travelling the mortal way, rather than using magic? But, isn't he High King? Why does he need to show a lower king respect?" Sarah asked, eager to learn all the social and political demands and expectations between courts.

"'is Majesty is a great King and he tries to show all 'is people 'is love for 'em when'er he can. He usually travels by foot when he goes to visit another kingdom, but sometimes he uses magic when it's an emergency or he wont be stayin' long."

"So it's not because of where were going, it's just what he usually does?" Somehow she felt slightly dissappointed by that.

"Tis not just that, me deary! The Goblin Kingdom be the most powerful kingdom in the Underground after the High Court. And, e'en then, there be those who say King Jareth is more powerful than e'en His Majesty, especially these past few years." Breeda half whispered this admission, thought they were alone in Sarah's bedchamber.

Sarah frowned at her, "Why only recently?"

"I hear tell it be thanks te some girl who challenged 'im and beat 'is labyrinth. He be so angry at bein' bested that he's been workin' non-stop te improve the kingdom and make the Labyrinth unbeatable."

"Hmm," Sarah mused, "He doesn't seem like a man easily defeated. I think I will have to see this Labyrinth."

"And I'd like te see whate'er girl could win it!"

And so it was with much ceremony that Sarah and the other members of the High Court who were going to visit the Goblin Kingdom (which were just the High King and Queen, but with all the attendants, ladies in waiting, and footmen, they made quite a parade) set out in golden carriages from the Grand Palace and made their way leisurely through a mountain pass towards their destination.

The trip passed pleasantly enough; Sarah watched the scenery pass by and asked questions of whichever lady in waiting or footman was at hand (Breeda stayed at the Grand Palace as she had other duties to attend to) about tree types and biting fairies, and court customs. A few kingdoms lay between them and that of the Goblins and each was unique and mysterious, though none came close to the grandeur of the Grand Palace. Sarah simply drank it all up, trying to distract herself from her worried thoughts and trembling stomach.

She had very mixed feelings about meeting with the King of the Goblins again. Their encounter had left her greatly shaken; she yearned to see him again, to memorize the sound of his voice, the contours of his face, but she feared her own reactions to him and they way he seemed to know her. Yet, the later made him even more intriguing since she could think of no way he _would_ know her. Besides, if he did know anything about her past, surely he would have aided in recovering her memories by now? She shook her head from her musings and tried to ignore the flush the thought of him sent through her body and continued to stare at the strange world passing before her window.

Thus it was with apprehension and not a small amount of fatigue that Sarah entered the castle beyond the Goblin City. She had seen little of the famed labyrinth from her confining carriage, but the sight of the great stone edifice towering above the surrounding alabaster walls of maze and city sent a shiver along her spine. Her heart beat faster with every mile they covered on their way to the castle and, by the time she stepped out of the golden coach she couldn't shake an odd feeling of déjà vu.

Her eyes roamed over every stone they came across and she fell back as the troupe was ushered through the great halls to the throne room. Her head felt light and her stomach of lead, but she attempted to swallow back her unease as she stepped into the large, well-lit room where the Goblin King greeted her party. She immediately turned at the sound of his voice, her wide-eyed wonder focused on him alone and, as an attendant shifted his weight, she looked right up into his sharp gaze.

For the first time, she saw his face. The swift arch of his eyebrows, the delicate curve of his nose, the flawless alabaster skin, the strong jaw, elegant cheekbones and arrogant smirk.

The mere sight of him brought a heat up from her no-longer-lead stomach to tinge her chest and face red, a reaction she attempted to hide behind a meager smile. She noticed, however, that he had the opposite reaction; as his smirk slid from his face, the color drained with it, leaving his skin a chalky white against the pale spill of his hair. His eyes did not turn away from her, however, though she could hear the King continue to speak to him.

"Well I'm quite exhausted from our journey. I could do with a good nap before dinner. Couldn't you, my dear?" The jovial ruler of the Underground turned to his wife who had stepped forward to place a chaste kiss on Jareth's cheek in greeting.

"If you wish, darling. Jareth, I assume our usual rooms have been prepared?" Jareth just managed to tear his eyes away from one mortal woman in his midst to reply distractedly.

"Yes, of course." He opened his mouth to ask a question, but the High Queen cut him off.

"Excellent. Shall we, darling?" She stepped back to her husband and laced her arm with his.

"Ah yes, my dear." He began to lead her from the large room, back to the hall they'd entered from. "Jareth my boy, why don't you give the Lady Sarah a look around, if she's not too tired from the ride here." Jareth and Sarah's heads snapped to look at each other behind the king's back.

"Yes, your majesty," Sarah and Jareth mumbled in unison as the Kings entourage followed their ruler from the formal chamber. Their eye watched as each left the room, waiting for the sound of echoing footsteps to fade down the hall. They both realized at the same moment that they were alone. Together.

"How are you feel-"

"I'm sorry abou-" They spoke over each other and stopped mid sentence. Sarah could feel the Goblin King's gaze on her, though she had yet to look him in the eye again. She wasn't sure her stomach could handle the full force of his gaze; it was currently bunched up around her throat as it was. She heard him clear his throat and resigned herself (or rewarded herself, she wasn't quite sure which) and met his eye.

She thought she might feint. He was closer to her than she'd thought and the shear beauty of him made her breath hitch and her heart skip a beat. He wore tight, dove grey breeches, a soft white billowing poet's shirt, a deep burgundy leather jacket and knee high polished black leather boots. His hair tumbled about his face with purposeful abandon and his hands, clad in fine black leather gloves hung limply at his sides.

For the briefest moment, she looked into his unfathomable, mismatched eyes and she saw an emotion there she could not name. She was reminded of his strange behavior at the ball and had a thousand questions to ask. However, at the proximity of his powerful, lean, seductive form, her mind could not remember single one.

"How are you feel-"

"I'm sorry abou-"

Jareth's question was cut off as his throat constricted around it. As Sarah turned to face him and met his eye, he was struck dumb by the woman before him. She was taller than he'd remembered-she must have grown in the last seven years-and her body had fully developed into that of a woman. The simple, but elegantly cut cream dress accentuated her round hips and full chest (he imagined a corset was to thank for that) and drew attention to her raven locks and sun-warmed skin.

His eyes searched her face and he silently noted the differences womanhood had made there. Her mouth was full and soft-looking, her cheeks had lost their vestiges of baby-fat making her cheekbones more pronounced, her chin was strong and stood up to the clean line of her jaw. But her eye, oh her eyes had not changed. Their bottle-green depths still called out to him, spoke to him of joy, wonder, mystery and secret pleasures he yearned to know. The cruelty, he knew, lurked just at the corner of her eye, waiting to come out, to cut and sneer and kill without feeling.

He knew their sting all to well.

His worry about her health and recovery was instantly shoved back by years of bitterness and self-loathing. He felt his trademark smirk slide back onto his slack mouth and his arm find a comforting resting place on his hip. He cocked an eyebrow at the stunning creating before him and cleared his throat before re-asking his previous question in a completely changed tone of voice.

"How are you feeling, Lady Sarah? I hope the Grand Palace has _indulged_ in your recovery nicely."

She did not miss the change that overcame him. Yet, somehow, she didn't mind. She felt she might be better at handling this pompous Goblin King, rather than the worried one. She stood up straighter and tilted her chin slightly to accommodate for his height. She knew she was a guest at his court, ward of the High King or no, and needed to test the waters before she said something she oughtn't.

"I am much improved, your Majesty, although my memory still escapes me. The High King has been nothing but munificent in his care of me. I am indebted to the King and Queen and humbled by their generosity." She curtsied dramatically in feigned deference and gave a self-satisfied smirk to the floor. She did not miss his small chortle as she rose.

She then began to walk slowly towards a great window overlooking the Goblin City and the Labyrinth beyond. "I wish to appologize, _your Highness_, for my actions last time we met." Jareth stayed where he was, arms crossed, the cold metal of his pendant pressed firmly into his chest.

"Indeed," was his non-committed response.

"I am still naïve to most of the Underground's customs and meant no disrespect," she placed her hands on the sill of the window and caught her first good view of the Labyrinth. She hoped he didn't notice her small gasp of wonder at the sight and tried to continue in her same affected, dispassionate voice, "I was overcome with emotion at the regained memory and did not think before acting."

"One should rarely think before acting," Jareth responded close to her ear. He was pleased to see her slight jump at his sudden change in position. He could feel her back tense, although there remained a few inches between their bodies, however she made no move to distance herself from him.

"That is a dangerous code to live by." She replied, her gaze sweeping over the view below. She wondered if he could hear her heart's frantic beating against her ribcage. Breeze slipped over the sill and stirred her hair about her, bringing the heady, musky scent she'd already memorized as his to her nose. Her eye lids drooped at the sinful smell of him and her body tingled with apprehension, wanting him to reach out and touch her, but terrified at the same time.

He stood silently behind her, the same breeze playing across his face as he watched the sunlight pick streaks of auburn and hazelnut out of her dark tresses. His fingers itched in their gloves to reach out and take a strand of that hair between them; to test if it was a silky as it looked. His lips ached to taste her skin where shoulder meets neck and feel her pulse quicken under his tongue. He attempted to distract himself from leaning forward and capturing a mouthful of her tender flesh by trying to re-engage her in conversation.

"And what, Lady Sarah, do you think of my Labyrinth?" He tried to move himself away, but found his feet planted firmly by her side. "It is the most challenging and terrifying puzzle in the Underground." The small part of his brain that still held some self control silently pleaded with her to turn away at the same time the rest of his mind screamed that he should spin her around and kiss her senseless. In either case, the distance between his mouth and her supple skin was closing and, he distantly noted, his hand was beginning to rise to pull her hair out of his way. His voice was barely above a whisper, "It is undefeatable."

She felt her flesh prickle at the ghosting of his breath along the sensitive skin of her neck. She wanted nothing more than for him to press her against the stone wall and ravage every inch of her exposed skin with the sharp, hard lines of his lips. Yet her mind still maintained coherent conversation, "Really? I'd heard that it had been bested already." She was faintly proud at how steady her voice was, "and by a young girl, no less." Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the slightest touch of a gloved finger along her left shoulder.

"Ah, but it has been much improved since then," he watched the hairs on the back of her neck rise as he drew back her mane with agonizing slowness. "It is larger, harder, and more dangerous than ever before." His lips hovered a mere inch from her skin and he took a moment to smell her; the rich, earthy smell of coffee mixed with the lightest scent of peppermint. His other hand traveled to her hip without his bidding it.

Her eyes had closed so she could concentrate on the burning line he was drawing along her shoulder. Her fingers were white as they clung to the stone windowsill, anticipating her knees giving out any second. _Dear God, he's not even touching me with his bare-hands, his skin against mine would surely drive me mad_. She felt him exhale softly against her neck again and the warmth travelled straight down to the pit of her stomach where a heavy, but not unpleasant, throbbing had begun to beat in time with her pulse. "It doesn't look that far to me." Her voice was breathy and she couldn't help but tilt her head slightly, affording him easier access to her hyper-sensitized flesh.

She could almost feel his soft chuckle from his chest through her taught back. "Ah, but it is further than you think." He applied pressure to her hip, closing the last inch between their bodies as his moth descended to close-

"Your Majesty." The voice from the other side of the room made the two jump and separate as though they were like poles released from a forced proximity.

Jareth spun to find whomever had interrupted them and barked, "What?"

Karyn, his personal secretary, stood at the entry to the throne room. She bowed to him, but showed no emotion or reaction in her body. She was quite used to his outbursts after her many decades in his service.

"Oh!" He heard Sarah make a soft sound of surprise at the appearance of the Rusalka. Her white dress fell limply around her, matching her pale, translucent skin. Her eyes were such a insipid blue as to be colorless and her hair a silvery green that flowed down her back in a long, wavy sheet. He could see why Sarah might be startled, the woman looked completely washed-out; a result from living in the unadulterated waters of the Labyrinth's rivers.

"Dinner is almost ready, Your Majesty." She bowed to him again and turned to face Sarah. "Lady Sarah," and she lowered her head in deference before turning and leaving the room.

Jareth's pulse was still racing and he felt almost light-headed from the feelings Sarah's closeness had elicited in him. He ran a shaking hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "I'll have a goblin show you to your room." His voice was surprisingly steady, despite the disconnect he felt to the words he spoke. He calmly strode out of the room, heading towards his own chambers. He didn't turn around to look at Sarah, knowing that if he saw the flush he knew colored her neck and face, or the way her heavy breathing made her chest pucker above her tight bodice, he would be unable to stop himself from taking her there, in the throne room.

_What was he doing?_ His body yearned for this woman, no doubt-he'd wanted her when she was still a pubescent girl and now she'd turned into a ravishing woman. Rather than dull his sense of attraction, the past seven years had only served to heighted his awareness of her allure. But he knew he was not alone in appreciating her captivating form. He'd seen other men watching her at the ball and had held an internal battle against himself, keeping his hands fisted at his sides so as not to lob a Bog-transporting crystal at another guest. Thus, he knew, her beauty was not in question.

But it was not just her body he'd been attracted to all those years ago. Far from it, her youthful appearance, though attractive in her innocence, had been more of a cause for concern than of appeal. He had looked almost old enough to be her father then, though he'd felt her reciprocate his attentions, especially when she saw his preferred tight breeches and open shirt. Rather, it had been her quick wit, her indomitable spirit, her self-assuredness in the face of extreme danger, and her ability to befriend even the most stubborn of his subjects that had won him over.

Yes, she'd pleaded with him to return her brother when she realized that he'd come to take him away, but she never begged, never sobbed, never gave into his tempting offers of her dreams. He had come to accept that he'd always known she would reject his final offer, that a mixture of naivety, youth, and stubbornness had fixed her mind on her goal and nothing else. But he'd wanted her to accept, to forget her boring mortal life filled with school and babysitting and role-playing in the park-

But that was not meant to be.

He found himself in his own chambers, breathing heavily from his encounter with Sarah and his brisk walk through the castle. He closed his eyes for a moment and caught his breath. He summoned a crystal and ordered a goblin to the throne room to escort Sarah to a guest room so she could wash up and change before dinner. He held the crystal tight in his fist for a moment.

So much was different now. Sarah had aged and matured, and he had changed as well, looking more youthful and less glittery, to say the least. He had wondered, when the changes had been pointed out to him by his peers, if it was not Sarah's influence that altered him, his heart still longing for her, though his mind tried to push all memories of her away. Now, if they stood side-by-side, they would seem to have less than 10 mortal years of age difference, rather than over 25. And while his body certainly approved of the changes in both of them, his mind railed against the changes of hers.

Sarah, his Sarah, was gone it seemed. She was polite, distant, and flirtatious in their breif encounters. Where was the anger, the hatred, the fear, or the cruelty that had glinted in her eyes the last time they met? Her accident had left her with no memories of herself, her home, or her family. Certainly she did not remember one night, seven years in the past, when she'd managed to navigate a treacherous and eerie labyrinth and best its King.

Jareth suddenly let out a frustrated bellow and threw the crystal across the room, where it shattered into a sparkling dust against the stone wall.

No. He refused to accept it.

She would remember, he vowed, she simply has to. He felt as though _his_ Sarah was there, just below the surface, waiting to come out. But how to free her?

"I will make her remember." He said aloud, making a solemn vow to the silent walls of the royal bedchamber. He crossed to his favorite window, looking over his Labyrinth, a formidable maze of white and green lines below. "I will make Sarah Williams remember who she is." He promised the winding twists and turns below him. He felt a surge of adrenaline and magic course through his veins and a strong wind blew up from the labyrinth. The magic of his kingdom had bound him to his word and he almost felt like it was sighing in relief. The strange feeling of restrained power that had been on the edges of his consciousness for the past few weeks licked at his mind like the beginning flames of a holocaust. He had no idea what it meant, but he felt even more certain of his decision.

Whether she would return to her family or stay in the Underground; whether she despised or loved him; whether or not he would ever see her again, he didn't care. He cared that _his _Sarah was gone and that a jovial, beautiful, complaisant shadow of her was walking around instead, and that it might be within his power to return her to herself.

Sarah wanted to sit down. Her head was spinning, her face was burning, and her heart was dancing the mamba in her ribcage. She stood near the window of the throne room, stunned and immobile. _What had she almost done?_

She raised a tentative hand to her neck, where the feel of his hot breath still ghosted over her skin. Her mind raced as she tried to quiet her labored breathing. Yet again, she had been seduced by the Goblin Kings within moments of being alone with him. Yes, he was certainly attractive-his form-fitting pants left little to the imagination-but it was more than that. She felt both comfortable and extremely nervous around him at the same time, like she both knew and feared him. He almost felt familiar; there was an itching in her brain when she thought of him, like when you have a word stuck on the end of you tongue but you just can't remember it. It was as though her body remembered something her mind could not.

But that was impossible, she reminded herself again. She'd never met him before.

Then why react so immediately and with such intensity to his vicinity? She sighed in frustration. She'd been elated when he'd helped her regain a memory at the ball. But then, it wasn't so much a specific memory as a feeling of certainty. She simply _knew_ she didn't dance. Ever. Not since-

Not since what? Her mind just could not draw forth the thought! And if she was so assured of this truth about herself, shouldn't there be a cause for it? Shouldn't there be a specific moment or image to associate with her reluctance to dance? She had a vague sense of giddy fear in the pit of her stomach when she thought of dancing, almost like riding a roller coaster or watching a horror movie, but that was it.

And what kind of amnesia was this if she could remember roller coasters and scary movies (although none in particular) but not her aversion to dancing?

She wanted to stomp her foot and let out a mournful wail at the injustice of it all, but refrained. This was an appropriate decision since just that moment a goblin with huge round eyes, no nose, and a wide mouth bounced into the room. It bent over so that the feather coming out of its rather ridiculous helmet brushed the floor in, what she assumed was, a bow before speaking in squeaky voice. "Please come with me, Lady Sarah."

Sarah let out another sigh and began to follow the short, comical goblin guard through the winding hallways of the Castle Labyrinth. She paid little attention to where they were going, but let her feet guide her as she distractedly followed her escort.

She longed to regain her memory. She knew she was probably missed by friends or family Aboveground, but, since she couldn't remember them, she wasn't as concerned as she knew she should be. No, she wanted to remember who she was; what she liked, what she dreamed of, what she strived for. She wanted to be herself again, whomever that might be.

And, she secretly knew, she wanted to remember the Goblin King.


	3. Chapter 3

Sarah thanked the squeaky-voiced goblin who had shown her what would be her room while staying at the Labyrinth Palace. Her door was of a rich mahogany, intricately carved with a twisting, dizzying tree replete with mystical birds perched on it's weaving branches. She held out an appreciative hand to follow the polished lines of the tree before pushing slightly and entering the chamber.

While it was not nearly as large or ornate as her suite at the Grand Palace, the room she entered was opulent in it's simplicity. The walls were of the same soft, warm stone of the rest of the castle, but the floor was not the hard pavers that lined the halls and throne room. Instead, planks of the same rich wood as her door lent the room a more inviting atmosphere, gleaming under a few carefully placed, thick wool rugs of muted beauty. Before her, to her left, was a small couch and chair, comfortably stuffed, and covered in a golden velvet. They sat before a small fireplace, the mantle of which was carved with the same detailed images of her door. To her right was a wardrobe and small vanity, also of a dark, rosy wood, and a door to the water room. Across from her stood an averaged sized four poster bed. She walked towards it and realized that the posts were each trees akin to the others in the room and, as they stretched towards the ceiling their branches came together in a grand, impossible weaving of wooden boughs over the bed. She touched a post as well, the wood polished and satiny beneath her fingers, and then ran her hand along the downy bed spread of cream and gold. The room was light and cozy and she marveled at it's splendor.

She crossed to one of the two windows framing the bed and again gazed down at the Goblin City and Labyrinth beyond. Without realizing, she let out a contented sigh and let her mind wander as she watched the bustle below. She had just wondered where the King's room might be when her musings were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Enter," she called, turning from the window to see who might come into her room. The door opened noiselessly and, to her surprise, where she expected a goblin or fae, a small fox terrier in a dress appeared.

"Lady Sarah," the short creatures bowed, her girlish voice seeming to be both out of place coming from a dog, yet perfectly suited for her. "I've been sent to help you get ready for dinner. My name is Guinevere."

"Oh," Sarah was a bit surprised and relieved. She'd had Breeda help her get changed while at Alberon's palace-the corseted fashions of the Underground could not be achieved by the wearer alone, she'd discovered. "Thank you." She smiled at the adorable creature.

Guinevere took that as permission to bound over to the wardrobe and fling open the doors. To Sarah's amazement, the dresses Alberon had given her, and a few she didn't recognize, were already unpacked and waiting. _I'm not sure I'll ever get used to magic!_

"This one will go lovely with the lady's complexion." Guinevere, despite being no more than two feet tall on her hind quarters, pulled a gown of burnt orange from the wardrobe and laid it on the bed. It was more formal than the traveling gown Sarah wore and she suddenly felt all of the miles she had only recently finished crossing via bumpy carriage.

"Oh, that is lovely! Just let me wash up a moment, it's been a long day and I don't want to soil it." _Not to mention I think I can still smell Goblin King on my skin_, she thought silently, trying not to analyze just how she felt about that. She left Guinevere to pull out matching ribbons and jewelry from the vanity drawers while she stepped into the washroom to scrub her face and run a comb through her hair. She didn't want to look like she'd just finished a long journey in close quarters in such exalted company for dinner.

She told herself her desire to impress was simply an act of respect for Alberon and all he'd done for her, and not to be alluring for one King of the Goblins. She also told herself that lying didn't make it true.

* * *

><p>Jareth had composed himself by the time he entered the dining hall for dinner. He'd already decided to implement his new resolve to restore Sarah's memories, however he wished to go about it slowly and delicately. He couldn't be sure she would ever remember, but he didn't want to accept that possibility. And, when she did, he wanted her to be able to look back and see him as he truly was, and not just as the imposing, child-stealing villain she must have thought him. So, he'd sent the granddaughter of one of her former friends, that small bog-protecting knight, to help her get ready for dinner. It was definitely a subtle hint, but he imagined the she-dog would eventually turn the conversation to her grandfather-although she'd already been forbidden from mentioning Sarah's journey outright, as had all his subjects-she was free to mention his escapades with the Labyrinth Champion and her motley crew. Yes, he felt quite satisfied with his first move, and strode purposefully into the dining hall to greet his guests.<p>

Alberon and Theta were already in the chamber by the time he arrived and, since they were the High King and Queen, Jareth would relinquish his usual seat of honor at the head of the table. "Good evening," Jareth gave a half hearted smile to the couple as he crossed the room towards them. They both beamed back at him as he approached.

"Ah there you are, my boy! What kind of a place are you running, Jareth, I'm half starved and not even a glass of wine in my hand to take my mind off of it!" Alberon patted him warmly on the back, betraying his triviality. "Come, sit, talk a while! It has been some time since we've shared a meal."

They were using one of the smaller tables since there would only be four of them dining, but even the smallest table could still seat 20. Thus, Alberon and Theta sat a great distance apart at either end of the table, while Jareth would sit in the middle, where the width of the table was a mere few feet. Across from him would be Sarah.

No sooner had he thought her name did she appear behind him.

"Your Majesties," Jareth turned to see her in a deep curtsy, her deep auburn hair falling gracefully over her shoulder, laying silkily against the vibrant gown she wore which showed off the same shoulder's he'd almost become intimately acquainted with earlier. He idly wondered if she'd selected the dress for the color or the cut, for both suited her with equal allure. As she rose, her eyes met his and he noticed the slight coloring of her cheeks with a sense of satisfaction. He immediately knew he'd do just about anything to elicit that same pigmentation again.

"Ah Sarah, my dear, don't you look lovely!" Alberon walked across the room and took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. "Come my dear and eat, they make excellent wild boar in the Goblin Kingdom, I do hope that it is on the menu tonight, Jareth knows it's my favorite!" He walked her over to her seat at the table, where Jareth cut in and pulled out her chair for her. Alberon seemed not to notice, but Sarah's eyes quickly turned to Jareth's, who quirked an eyebrow in response as she sat down. He pushed in her chair before making his way around the table to take is place across from her. He made sure the High Queen was seated before he too sat down.

He steepled his fingers before his mouth with his elbows placed on the table as he looked at his esteemed guest, tuning out the chatter of the other two people as the food was brought in. He had indeed ordered his cooks to make wild boar, hoping it would prove a distraction for the High King who would use it to both fill his belly and the conversation. ("Oh, Jareth, this is absolutely marvelous, my boy! Absolutely marvelous!")

Meanwhile, he simply watched Sarah as she calmly and almost nervously began to eat her food. She was glorious. The curve of her neck, the angle of her nose, the very light spattering of freckles along her cheeks that stood out when she blushed. He thought he could even smell the light floral, soapy smell he'd already memorized as hers. She did not meet his gaze, but he could tell she felt his eyes upon her. He was just beginning to consider pulling her away from dinner and transporting them to his chambers and taking her up in his embrace when his musings were interrupted.

"Come, eat up Jareth. Don't let a good dinner go to waste!" Alberon observed from his distance down the table. Jareth gave a half smile to himself, aware of both his responsibilities and his desires. He reluctant ended his vigil and shifted position to tuck into the plate in front of him. His thoughts were once again solely focused on the woman before him, however, when he realized the resistance his foot had met while he shifted his weight had been hers.

He quickly looked up, not daring to move, and saw that her eyes had strayed to a point about three inches away from his dinner plate, as close to his person as she dared look. He held his breath and expected her to pull her own foot away. She did not, however, and so he slowly began to eat his food while every one of his nerves seemed strained to pick up the slightest change of pressure or movement from the foot pressed so intimately against his. As Sarah also continued to delicately pick at her food, they remained in a stalemate; neither one making a move to increase the contact between them, yet at the same time, neither pulled away. They were each so absorbed by the strange feelings such a small amount of pressure could produce in themselves, that they each jumped and tucked their feet under their respective chairs when Alberon turned the conversation to them.

"So, Sarah, my dear, what do you think of the mighty Labyrinthine Kingdom?"

"Oh, it has been quite enjoyable, so far," Sarah met Jareth's eye for the briefest of moments, but her face betrayed nothing. "But I've seen so little of it so far, that I can hardly give it adequate praise." A tactfully posed and intriguing answer, Jareth thought.

"Well maybe you can go out and see the Goblin City tomorrow," Alberon suggested, "I know there are a number of unique little shops and sights to see. It is, after all, such an _eclectic_ kingdom Jareth leads." Coming from anyone else, such a statement would seem derogatory, but Alberon meant it in all innocence.

"I would be happy to escort you through the city, Lady Sarah." Jareth offered, trying to sound haughty and not too eager.

"Thank you, your Majesty, it would be an honor." She met his eye again, this time holding it for a few heartbeats, trying, in vain, to quell her rising emotions of anticipation and panic.

"Yes, I think it would be good for you to get out and about. You've spent too much time up in a tower at the Grand Palace. It's time to see what the Underground has to offer!" Alberon laughed heartily and sipped his wine, hoping he wasn't betraying his true motives. _Jareth, dear boy, I can read your face like an open book! _He thought, smiling into his drink. He looked down the table to his lovely wife who gave him a knowing smile as the younger couple continued to feign indifference between them at the table. He quirked an eyebrow at her and took another swig of elfin wine before tucking back into his dinner. It really was a marvelous meal!

* * *

><p>Sarah was woken by the soft patter of footsteps against her bedroom floor. She rubbed her eyes and stretched while she listened to the sounds of Gwen getting her bath and clothes ready.<p>

"Good morning, m'lady," the small she-dog smiled at her from across the room carrying an armful of fresh towels to the wash room.

"Good morning, Gwen." She snuggled deeper into her blankets, enjoying the first few moments of the day when the worries of life have yet to set in and the feelings of dreams still linger. She sighed contentedly and let her mind wander. When it alighted on a blond fae who wore too tight pants, she sat bolt upright with a gasp. She was supposed to go into the city today, with only Jareth as an escort.

This was going to be a long day.

The whole time she bathed and prepared to go out, Sarah's mind ran a thousand miles a minute, trying to think of what to do, what to say, while her stomach felt like lead. Should she smile or act indifferent? Should she reprimand him for his advances in the throne room? Should she pretend that it never happened? Should she flirt? Should she be aloof or ask the eager questions she was brimming with?

As Gwen finished her hair, leaving it down, but pulled back from her face, the knock on her door made her heart leap into her throat and her stomach drop below her knees.

This simply wouldn't do.

She shook her head, took a few calming breaths and made a decision. She would be herself, whoever that may be, and keep a reign on her hormones that seemed to react so violently whenever the Goblin King was near. He was just showing her around the city, after all, an innocent, _public_, tour. She would be fine.

She crossed to the door and opened it to find the fae in question standing relaxed in the hall, his hands casually clasped behind his back. She couldn't help but note the usual high boots, tight breeches, open shirt, and wild hair. Her veins constricted in her belly and the image of him leaning over her, pressing her against the beautiful carvings of her door, came unbidden to her mind.

_Shit_.

"Good morning, Lady Sarah," Jareth smiled slyly at her.

"Good morning , your Majesty." She bowed her head to him slightly and when she looked back, she thought she caught a brief look of darkness mar his features before vanishing completely. She must have been mistaken, she decided.

"Shall we?" He held out his arm for her which she took after a short, steadying breath. She was relieved he was not so obviously enticing her, as he had the day before, and was reminded of their foot interplay at dinner; both of them hesitant to initiate anything, but both reluctant to pull away.

And so it was for the rest of the day. Jareth was good to his word and took her on an excellent tour of the Goblin City, and not to a secret alleyway to have his way with her (although that did have its appeal). He showed her the markets, the parks, the river port, the inner edges of the Labyrinth, the shops and the crooked streets of goblin houses. He gave her an explanation and brief history of each feature and answered her questions when she posed them. He felt his insides knot up as he showed her the Labyrinth's exit, guarded by the silly armed goblins and their giant machine, but she neither recognized nor remembered anything and he was simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Everywhere they went, the city's inhabitants bowed and smiled, a few goblins even waved energetically at their beloved king. He could hear them whisper as they passed just out of earshot, and he shot a few reprimanding looks when he heard such mutterings as "Labyrinth Champion" or "the girl who solved the great maze". Despite his worry that one of his citizens might say something they oughtn't, he was truly enjoying her company, and he was pleased the feeling seemed to be mutual.

Once Sarah had relaxed, she was able to concentrate on what Jareth was showing her, rather than simply on the heat radiating off his arm holding hers. She was amazed with all that she saw and asked questions about everything. Jareth patiently and happily explained and she did her best to remember everything he told her. She stepped easily into a comfortable repartee with the imposing king and, though he intimidated her, she unintentionally returned his sly smiles and unconsciously touched his arm or played with a strand of her hair more than was purely necessary. It was quite the change from their previous encounters and she was much more comfortable with this friendly, if flirty, banter than she had been with the raw, burning tango they'd been dancing around each other.

"What else can we see?" She turned to face the Goblin King, child-like wonder in her eyes. He thought a moment before answering. He'd spent the morning trying to feel out how much this Sarah was like the one he remembered. She had the same courage, though it was no longer mindless; she had the same inquisitiveness, though it was no longer wary; she had the same stubbornness, though it was no longer immature. He couldn't help but wonder if it was her memory loss or the passage of time that had rendered these changes in her. For his old Sarah would hesitate before laughing so freely in front of him and would never address him as 'your majesty' so easily, without spite or fear. This new Sarah was respectful, but playful; seductive, but timid; mischievous, but without cruelty. How could he make her herself again, if he wasn't sure who she was anymore?

When she'd beaten his Labyrinth, she'd declared him powerless over her. He could not watch her, could not sense her, could not hear her wishes, could not respond to her call. He could not even hear her call-had she tried to call to him. Even now, as she stood before him in the bustling market in the cool shade cast by the Labyrinthine Palace, eager to see more of his kingdom and it's peoples, he could not take her hand or cast a crystal to take them to the palace gardens in the blink of an eye. His powers simply didn't work on her.

Not that she knew it.

"That is the majority of the city itself, I'm afraid," He answered truthfully and reluctantly. He had quite enjoyed the tour himself but his recent musings had left a shadow over his mind. Was this woman before him truly the girl who had bested him? Was he trying to find similarities and convincing himself that it was merely time that had wrought the changes in her?

Having her so close and yet so far away was torturous. She was no longer a fleeting memory of an untouchable lost love. She was living, breathing and, surprisingly, willing. He could feel himself falling back in love with her. Every eager question, every slight blush, every innocently flirtatious flutter of her eyelids chipped away at the rough and imposing exterior he had bolstered after his defeat. Every time her fingers touched his arm or she let out a soft laugh he felt pangs in his heart along the cracks she had left in it. But then, she would say "your majesty" and she would believe him without reservation and she'd allow him to take her arm and he grew cool again. His Sarah had been his equal; had declared it herself as the world fell around them. This woman before him may be his equal emotionally and intelligently, but she lacked the fire, the power, and the cruelty he had within himself. The same fire, power, and cruelty she had once held in her eyes as a girl.

He could not forget his task; she must remember herself. He must know _her_, not the mere shell of her. He needs her to look him in the eye and say his name as she once did. His rekindled passion was based on hope and memory and he could not forget that she had crushed him once and may well do it again.

But it would be better to have her remember and rip out his heart again, then to keep the precious echo that she was now.

"What about the Labyrinth?" He whipped around at her question, a rush of anger and regret clouding his eyes and straitening his spine.

"What _about_ the Labyrinth?" He spit back at her, bitterness in his voice.

"May I not see a part of it?" She did not understand his sudden mood swing, but she could be stubborn if she wanted to and was ignorant of his anger's full potential.

"The Labyrinth? The Labyrinth, tra la la?" He said in a mocking sing-song. "It is not a plaything or a tourist attraction for a little girl to visit on a sunny day! It is the ultimate test in perseverance, intelligence, and bravery! You wouldn't make it very far within it's twisting walls and it is much further than you think!" He watched as her eyes narrowed, her lips pursed and her hands slowly turned to fists as he shouted at her. As he finished his outburst, he suddenly caught his breath, desperately wanting to see how she would retaliate. For a moment, she had looked like herself again—a clarity in her green orbs and that hint of cruelty turning the corners of her mouth. She looked as though she may repeat her fateful mockery and declare it a "piece of cake", but just when her mouth opened to parry his verbal attack, a shock of pain erased the anger on her face and her hand reached up to hold her head.

Just as swiftly as his anger had come to him, it left him as he reached out to grab her shoulders and stop her from toppling over. "Sarah, are you alright?" He asked her, surprised at the level of concern in his voice. Luckily, she didn't seem to notice.

"Yes, I—my head…" She squeezed her eyes shut and politely pulled her arms from his grasp. He was disappointed but not surprised when she took a step away from him and admonished himself that he could not make up his mind to laugh at her or comfort her. "I'd like to lie down, I think. Can you please take me back to the castle?"

The softness in her voice revealed her sudden weakness and her withdrawal from the familiar banter they had shared all morning. He let his hands drop to his sides and answered just as dispassionately, turning and walking her slowly and dejectedly back to the castle beyond the goblin city.


End file.
